Daddy's Devilish Diary
by Winnifred Artemis
Summary: Growing up isn't easy - neither for the child itself or the parents watching it happen. In a normal world it would be hard, but in there are dark times in the world, and no one can escape the evil and lustful doings in the world. These are chapters from the Fiend's diary, telling the untold story of the life and of his most treasured daughter. A collaboration with GoldenWhiteRose.
1. A Father's Protection

**A/N:  
**Hey guys, a little joint piece from GoldenWhiteRose and me (WinnifredArtemis). We first met when GoldenWhiteRose joined the site in spring and have been working on this joint enterprise for three months now - so be nice with the reviews :P

WinnifredArtemis voicing the Fiend and GoldenWhiteRose voicing Alice in true Pendle style :D

I hope you enjoy it, and we do love getting feedback - it helps at least me grow, so please take time to sit down and write down your thoughts.

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Again, please like /follow me if you enjoy my stuff:  
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**Disclaimer:  
**«I do not own any of the following pictures, music, characters or the original universe. I only own the story itself the main character and to the idea.»  
Thanks a lot to Lightning Bee for betaing on this story.

* * *

**Daddy's Devilish Diary  
**

* * *

_Dear Diary,_

_Today has been quite a difficult day for me as a father. I know that there comes a time where you're supposed to let your little ones grow up and leave the nest. Still, to think my little girl, at only fourteen years of age, is starting to be seen as a woman and has started to develop more than friendly feelings... No, I really can't say I like it._

_I know I can't say I've been the best father; being absent when her mother gave birth to her, and only poking my head in to look at the child before leaving again. No, I'm not a real dad—and certainly not a daddy… A daddy is the first and most important man in his daughter's life—I had never really been in my black haired daughter's life. I chose to be with some of my other uncountable offspring. Their greedy and ungrateful eyes looking at me, hungry for the power I can grant them… And what do they do when they get it? They invariably go on a meaningless rampage and get themselves killed some way. What was the purpose of it all?_

_Ah, diary, sometimes I really regret not being with this child and her mother more often. When I look down at her I can see a lot of myself in her. Her strength, her courage and her intelligence—they are all sides of myself that I really value and that even my enemies have learned to respect. If I had been with her more often I could have taught her who she was and the full extent of her power, If I had done so, then she wouldn't have been forced to live with that old worn out and oh so weak spook. Spook. Huh, yeah, I really can't believe he hasn't seen himself for the old man he is, and let the young boy take his place._

_That she was living with them has had a major influence on the way that she expresses herself and her thoughts. She was almost impossible to recognize as my daughter. I suppose most of it has to do with the young boy. His soul really is an interesting one, and I have to admit that I myself have taken big interest in getting him on my site. An idea would be to get the two of them together—not that I think they need my help in that matter, they are almost too close for my comfort already. Still, the boy is a son of the light—a weapon made to be used against me, and if I let the two of them get closer, who knows what the result could be? The old spook would be sure to use her attraction to the boy to turn her into someone she wasn't._

_However, the fool had kicked her out and now she was alone for the first time in her life. It can be a new start for the two of us, and this time, I will be there for her. I will become—her Daddy. I stayed up all night and I have now planned it all. At first I thought of just popping out with a cake, shouting "Happy father-daughter's day", but as I practiced, it just felt too embarrassing. In the end the idea I went for was the one making myself and the idea of a dad grow on her. I could help her on her way, give her what she's in need of. A meal of warm food, a blanket, a helping hand. Nothing will be too much for my daughter—especially considering who I am._

_Dear Diary, I'm sorry, but I just can't wait any longer, I really have to have a look at what's going on. I'll tell you all about it later._

_OXO._

The fiend signed and put down his quill down on table. Getting up from the chair he'd been sitting in, he walked over to the opposite corner of his private office. A table was placed in this corner as well, but it was slightly different to his writing desk, this one was taller and was formed an ellipse. The surface of it was clean and black and, as the fiend bent forward and over it, he willed the surface to show him what he wanted to see. The black stone started moving in circles and created a perfectly clear window down to Earth and to his daughter.

* * *

On the outside of town on Earth

* * *

Alice approached the tavern a little anxiously, hoping they would accept her coin as payment for drink, food and a way of keeping warm.

The tavern wasn't particularly busy and as she entered two men at the bar turned around to look her up and down appreciatively.

"You got money?" The barman asked her brusquely. Alice took her single bronze coin out of her pocket. The barman nodded. "At this hour that'll get you a pint o' larger and slice o'bread- no doubt you'll get some work though. You can stand over there by the fire to keep warm and where I can see you. If the neighbourhood watch come calling you scarper, girl." He left her bread and ale on the bar and turned away to serve another customer. A heavily made-up woman, old enough to be Alice's grandmother by Pendle standards, gave Alice a filthy look.

Alice went slowly with her ale, not much enjoying the taste, as she stood in front of the fire, slowly warming up. Her bread she'd devoured instantly.

Although it had been around eleven o'clock when Alice had first entered the tavern it seemed to get busier as the night went on until eventually an entire military band, most likely a press gang, entered the tavern, already drunk.

The leader of the band, a tall, thin man with a face like a rat ordered ale all round for his companions, to many cheers, before turning to the rest of the tavern.

"On our way to fight, we are" he announced "And we're going to need a hard little worker to help us out! Any takers?"

"There's two here tonight." The barman confirmed. "That fair maiden with the red hair," he pointed to the woman old enough to be Alice's grandmother who looked anything but a fair maiden. "And this precious violet with an arse you just need to smack. Barely off her father's knee this one." He told them proudly, pointing at Alice.

Every man in the bar turned to stare at Alice, none more pervertedly than the rat-faced man. He strode over to her confidently, stopping just two foot away. The hot blood rose to Alice's face and she contemplated throwing a punch- there was no way she'd be willing to act as anyone's whore. But there were so many more of them. Her best hope was surely to wait for a private audience. The barman came out eagerly from behind the bar to stand beside Alice.

"Well lads," the rat-faced man turned to his companions. "If she was my little girl I'd still be bathing her!" They all laughed heartily at his joke and though she had long since lowered her eyes she felt their gazes heavily on her. "How much for me and the lads?" He asked the barman.

"Sovreign each I'd say."

The rat-faced man handed over five sovreigns, tossed an old coin to the barman and took Alice's arm, looking hungrily at her.

"Will you be wanting a bed, master?" The barman called, back round the other side of the bar.

"I'll have her up against a wall." The rat-faced man replied gruffly, dragging Alice out of the bar.

It became clear to Alice now that there was no hope of a private audience and that these men planned to take her every which way, up against the wall and in front of each other.

She swung a punch at the man holding her arm; it hit him in the jaw and he spat the blood in Alice's face. Twisting her arm behind her the rat-faced man thrust her against the wall and smacked her bottom hard.

"Let's take a look at that famous arse of hers!" He jeered, pulling her skirt up.

"You don't know what you're meddling with!" Alice cried out. "You don't know who I am and what I can do!" With every fibre of her being Alice wished these men dead.

"But we're about to find out" the rat-faced man whispered in her ear, stroking her bottom. A sob caught in her throat and she wriggled desperately, hissing a spell under her breath and exerting her will—these men would die.

The rat-faced man smirked and brought Alice's other hand around to his crotch and laid it against his manhood. It was peppered with weeping scabs and Alice whimpered – he had syphilis. He clenched Alice's hand into a fist and then forced her to grasp around him. Alice choked on a sob as he began to move her hand up and down the shaft of his manhood. Alice remembered what her Aunt Agnes had once said about men heading off to war- they burned with lust. Well if this man wanted to burn with lust then so be it.

Alice exerted her will again, and this time her magic responded and ignited the pubic hair of the rat-faced man causing him to howl and release Alice's hand.

After a moment of whimpering the rat-faced man regained bravado. He chuckled and put his other hand round Alice's front to fondle her breasts. "Is that teensy little spell the best our little witch could do?" He mocked, pushing his knee between her legs to force them apart.

He forced himself against her to keep her arm behind her back while he untied the string around her waist.

"Lets see what a little witch looks like with no clothes on," he whispered, pulling her dress up to her waist, causing Alice to sob and whimper.

Alice's tears ran down her face as the rat-faced man pulled her dress off over her head leaving her standing there in just her binding and loincloth. He reached down and unlaced her pointy shoes and ordered her to step out of them.

The rat faced man placed one hand inside her binding and seized her right breast while he slipped the other hand up her loincloth and stroked her most private area. Alice turned round and spat at the man.

"Take your filthy hands off me!" She screamed at him, trying again to tear herself from his grip.

"I've paid for this, you bitch." He hissed at her, bending her over and pushing her to her knees and down onto her hands.

"I think she's worried about the spanking she'll get of Daddy!" Another of the men jeered. "Scream all you want, sweetheart, cause Daddy can't hear you."

The rat-faced man placed his hands on Alice's hips and prepared himself for entry.

"You're lucky this isn't your first time, pretty whore, or this would hurt a lot." The rat-faced man announced.

"Nah I bet she was born with her legs open!" The other man mocked. "I bet she's good and wet- I wonder how many pricks she's had inside her?"

Alice tensed herself for the moment of agony.

"You can suck my cock while you're at it" the other, most vocal man, sneered, pulling down his breeches. 'You even think about biting or lighting up my pubes I'll fuck you up the arse until you're raw and bloody." He warned, tracing Alice's lips with his appendage. The rat-faced man snickered and Alice felt him close to her.

"Well well well," a voice jeered from the shadows "If it isn't our little gutter rat!"

The rat-faced man instantly released Alice and turned to face the voice. "Who the he-" before noticing the outline of a ship on the lower part of the mans tunic. "Oh fuck me!"

"Like sister, like brother I see" the man responded, walking out of the shadows and into the light cast by the moon.

A round of laughter from the darkness gave away the presence of more than one man. "You know, they're the exact same words your whore sister begged as she spread her legs for me in the mud yesterday. Wet as a marsh, she was, and squirmed like a weasel while I fucked her into the dirt!" The men who had remained in the shadows chuckled. "But I see you have your own little slice of cake there," he added, spotting Alice, "And I'm ready for my dessert! You might as well give her to me; we all know you've not got the cock for her!" More chuckles came from the gloom.

The new man approached Alice slowly, no one moved to stop him.

"Well aren't you just a little peach?" He asked, squatting next to hear and lifting her chin. "A soft-skinned, pretty little peach. How old are you, poppet?"

"Fourteen," Alice whispered, the man drew closer.

"Are you bleeding yet? Are you a woman?" He asked even lower so no one else could hear.

"Yes, but I'm not really a whore, I didn't sell myself to these men," Alice whispered back.

"Are you a maiden? Did they hurt you?" He asked her gently before shaking his head and moving away, scooping up Alice's dress and shoes as he did so. "A word of advice, Josah," he added to the rat-faced man "Stick with your sister, she's the only one desperate enough to have you. Mind you, could you even fill her? I think I might have stretched her a bit."

The rat-faced man lunged at the newcomer but was held back. The newcomer tucked Alice under his arm and took her back inside the tavern and up the stairs to a bedroom.

"Just take a seat on the bed, poppet, I'll be back in a moment."

Alice obeyed, although tears of fear pricked behind her eyes before the man returned to soothe her with soft words and a hot meal on a tray which he placed before her.

"Just stay here and rest, poppet. You can have my room tonight, have no fear, I won't do anything to hurt you." He hugged her gently with one arm before getting up and going to the door.

"Who are you?" Alice demanded, anxious to know why a complete stranger would help her. "Why are you helping me?"

"You remind me of my own daughter," the man replied. "You can call me Luca... keep the bird." He added, nodding towards the hand-whittled wooden bird, about as big as the palm of Alice's hand, sitting on the dressing table. It was the sort of toy peasant men would craft for their little girls if they could not afford a doll or a new dress although it was also a model of Alice's favourite bird; the musical bluejay. There was no sound she loved more than the song of the woodland bluejay except the sound of Tom's voice close to her ear, whispering tender truths. But the wooden bird would have to do. She didn't have Tom any longer.

* * *

Back at the fiend's place

* * *

The fiend smiled to himself as he walked away from the black stone table. His daughter had once again proved that she was his, and the awareness of this made even the heart of the devil warm up. He was proud, proud of his Alice. She might not be a daddy's girl or obedient like her sister, Morwena, but that might be the reason he treasured her so much. Alice was strong, she was fearless and she had her own way of doing things.

Taking up the quill, the Fiend once again sat down with his diaries and continued from where he'd left off.

_Dear Diary,_

_I just saw my daughter again. She has grown up to be such a beauty, and I can see so much of her mother in her. She's a feisty one too, a girl to be both feared and admired, and I can't be anything but proud of her.  
_

_Sometimes I wonder if I'm doing the right thing or if I should be more active in her life. I'm afraid it's already too late and, even if I did, I doubt she'd listen to anything I'd to say. In that way our arrangement might be an ideal one. This way she is more free, more her own person. I don't want her to do what I think is best for her – by keeping my distance I let her figure out what she likes to do and wants to be for herself, and then I try to support her in any little way I can._

_I guess someday it will have to end. With each day that goes by, I, her father, watch my little princess grow up a little more. In my eyes she will always be my little one, but soon, before I know it, she'll be wrapped up in the arms of someone else._

_When that day comes, that's when I'll have to let her go…_

_OXO._

_The Fiend_

* * *

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	2. A Pendle Tradition

**A/N:  
**Once again GoldenWhiteRose and I decided to work together. It all started back when I first published my rewrite of an original chapter in one of the 'The Last Apprentice' books. She was the first that actually commented on it, and before we knew it we were discussing ideas. Our first story was named 'Daddy's Devilish Diary' and it took quite a while from the idea to the published story. This time we decided to do a Halloween piece, and the process has only taken 2 weeks – and I have to say that I'm quite happy with this one too :3

Anyway, I'll spare you from more jabber from me – for now at least; but do remember to leave a little review or send me a comment on PM or social media with your thoughts and opinion, okay?

**Do like /follow me if you enjoy my stuff:**  
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**Disclaimer:  
**«I do not own any of the following pictures, music, characters or the original universe. I only own the story itself the main character and to the idea.»  
Thanks a lot to Lightning Bee for betaing on this story.

* * *

**Daddy's Devilish Diary - "A Pendle Tradition"**

* * *

Soft skin. Her soft skin was underneath him. His to take. His to kill if he'd wanted. His breath got heavier as he felt her nails dig into his rough skin, ripping, leaving a trail of red as she moved down. Many women had offered themselves to him, but no one had dared touched him before. He could feel the warmth of the blood trailing off his back. His blood, falling to the earth beneath them, mixing with hers. The night was as dark as the Fiends soul, and the only light that were given to the two of them were the light from the moon. It was full tonight, a magical moon of great power – if the legends were to be trusted.

"I'll give you a daughter," she moaned under her breath. "A daughter that will make you proud."

"You seem quite sure, woman. You cannot promise this. It's something that you cannot know for certain."

A wry smile ran over her lips as she gasped for air. "I know, and so should you, my lord." A loud moan escaped her mouth as the Fiend pounded harder into her, excited by the witch's words. "We're both strong. Ah! Even _you_ can't deny- Ah! my strength!" The man was now thrusting so hard and so rapidly that Lizzy had to shut her mouth and bite her teeth together not to bite of her tongue. The world was spinning around of the mere physical activity. She could smell the scent of blood. Her blood. The Devil hadn't been gentle – and she wouldn't have liked it any other way. Life was hard, and the only way of surviving it was to be able to accept the hardship, to embrace the pain. The movement stopped, letting the woman to open her mouth to take a quick breath. She felt an explosion between her legs that caused her to lose the ability to breathe and made her see fireworks.

"I hope for your sake that what you say will be the truth." The young man had already risen to his feet and was turning away, ready to leave.

"Oh, it's true." The women assured him. She was still lying on the ground, legs spread and a wry smile on her lips.

Faster than the eye could see, he was down on the ground again, pressing his body, his lips to hers. The kiss wasn't a gentle one, neither a passionate nor a desiring one. It was pure hunger. Hunger for the power discovered in the other. In the distance, a lone wolf let out a howl, but the sound went by unnoticed as the pair once again clashed together in the dark.

In his bed, the Fiend opened his eyes. He felt a shiver run through his body. Even though it was many years since he'd met the woman, and even though he only laid with her once, the memories of her were still fresh in his mind. Many women had he bedded, but none other had been as fierce as the one that was called 'Boney Lizzy'…

The devil let out a sigh and nudged himself out of the bed. His skin was shining with sweat, but the god didn't seem to care as he walked over to the table. Here he grabbed a piece of luscious meat and sank in teeth into it while letting his eyes roam absentmindedly around the room. For some unknown reason the dream of his night with the raven haired woman had stayed as a ghost in his mind – occasionally waking him up drenched in sweat. Each time he found himself thinking, wondering, what it was that had made that woman so special. More than once had he thought that she might have put her mark on him, trying to claim him as her own, but each time he shrugged off the idea with a smile. There was no way that was possible, and even if it had been, it was highly unlikely; nobody would have dared to make such a dangerous attempt to dominate a god as deadly as him.

Or would they?

Throwing the now white bone back on the plate, he turned his back on the table and rested his lower back against it. He wouldn't have thought it of anyone else, but that woman wasn't like any other. Neither was their child, he thought. It was known that the Fiend didn't play daddy to his children. There was way too many of them for him being able to do that. Also, most of them were of no significant. They were weak and too resilient, and of no importance to the devil himself. Those few that he'd acknowledged all had something about them, something he recognized from himself, and that he valued; power, strength, and the determination and ability to defy all others just with sheer will. The black haired woman had been exactly like that, and the combination of both of their genes had ensured that Alice was indeed one of _his_.

The fiend pushed himself away from the table and walked over to his world window, the magnifying glass that allowed him to look down at the earth and the ones walking on it. He often spent his time here, checking up on his subordinates and followers. He smiled wryly to himself: It had been quite a while since he'd had a proper look at Alice…

* * *

It was the time of year when the leaves had turned golden and fallen off the trees. The nights had drawn in closer and turned colder.

This evening was the occasion often known as 'All Hallows Eve' or 'Halloween' and there was no one I'd rather have spent it with than Alice. We were sat together by the fire, Alice writing in her little book, and me admiring the way the fire illuminated her ivory skin and thick black eyelashes. Her cheekbones appeared higher and sharper than usual and her lips were made voluptuous by the shadows.

Just as her eyes flicked upwards to look at me from under her eyelashes almost sternly.

"Call that working, Tom?" She whispered, a hint of her white teeth behind her crimson lips. "Your master's getting a little slack with you, Thomas Ward." She continued, raising her chin haughtily, her full lips folding into a smirk. "It's time you had a proper lesson."

"Lad!" My master's voice punched through our heavy atmosphere of excitement and enticing danger. "Library, bring your notebook!"

Alice heaved an irritable sigh and pulled away from me, scowling. "Always in the way" she muttered.

"I'm sorry, Alice... I should probably go." I spoke normally but was aware of my nervous hand movements. We gave each other an apologetic half-smile and then I was forced to leave Alice's soft, warm presence for my master's gnarled, cold one.

* * *

By the time my master released me it was beginning to get late and the sky was as black as ink with just a sprinkling of stars to complement the full moon.

I returned to the kitchen but Alice wasn't there. I followed my instincts and found her outside in the western garden, sat on the bench overlooking the fells. As I drew closer, Alice turned around to smile at me and I went and took my place on the bench beside her.

"How much did Old Gregory teach you about Halloween, Tom? About the witches' Halloween?" She asked me, smiling as though this was all some delicious game. I played along.

"About the Pendle Halloween?"

"Yes."

"He taught me that it's the most important witches' Sabbath. They believe that one coven, on Halloween night, can contact the Fiend and ask him to grant the coven one wish."

"That much is true" Alice agreed quietly, looking at me sideways from under her eyelashes in a way that was incredibly attractive. "But..." here she put her hands on my knees and turned to face me, walking her hands up my legs as she straddled my lap. "Exactly how much did he teach you about the secret rituals?" She whispered in my ear, her very words tickling my sensitive lobe.

"Alice!" I whispered, torn between resistance and surrendering to pleasure. She giggled and pressed herself against me. Some desperate hunger was about to become apparent and I chuckled at having the upper hand. We tumbled from the bench to land on the soft grass, Alice instant rolling back on top of me and straddling my lap.

I caressed her arms and she leaned down to nuzzle my cheek. I kissed her neck until she was leaning against my chest, her moans causing tiny vibrations against my exposed throat. As I kissed her, deft hands worked to unbutton and liberate me of my shirt, completely without me noticing at the time.

"Touch me, Tom" she whispered, tracing her finger along the waistband of my breeches.

Teasing her, I slowly untied the string from about her waist. She raised her arms, smiling innocently at me, and I eased her dress off, over her loincloth and binding, and over her head.

"Tom!" She whimpered more urgently, grasping my left hand in a bone-crushing grip.

I chuckled again as she wriggled out of her loincloth and kicked it off along with her pointy shoes. I kissed her along the top of her breasts while unlacing her binding from the back.

Alice, grown hot with impatience, laid my hand against her most sacred area. I began to stroke gently and she relaxed against me, spreading her legs. Her flower was moist, sticky, and warm- like the dewfall on a spring blossom. I gently inserted my index finger a little way inside her, finding her hard little nub with ease. As I circled and stroked she bit into my neck and chest, grasping my hair. Before long she started to tremble and grasped me tightly, I could feel her flower contracting and pulsating as she cried out in pleasure. I felt her release but knew from experience it increased her pleasure to keep my finger busy inside of her.

She moaned loudly, her body going limp as I removed my finger, now thickly coated in her dews. I began teasing her opening again with the same finger and I heard her whimper.

"Tom!" After a few moments of trembling on my chest while I stroked and kissed her hair she raised her head to look at me. She wriggled up to my face and started to kiss me, shallow and innocent at first but slowly her tongue explored deeper and her kiss became more lustful.

I felt her hands caressing my lower stomach, edging around the waistband of my breeches. I felt her fingers sketch over my straining erection as she began to unlace and undress me. I gasped and thrust myself forward as I felt the cool air blow over my tingling genitals.

Alice giggled and I felt her fingers walk over the pubic hair from my stomach to my loins. She caressed my manhood gently, making me groan with impatience. Alice drew back from the kiss and began making little nips along my neck and jawline.

She folded her fingers around me and began rubbing my shaft, creating friction far more delicious that I myself could ever hope to replicate. Her tongue lapped against my jugular vein and the growing stubble on my cheeks.

I felt myself drawing closer to release far faster than ever before, feeling Alice's moist centre rubbing gently against my thigh and feeling her clever tongue tease the skin of my throat.

The blood of my member was close to boiling. I heard the way I groaned, almost pathetically, yet made no attempt to silence myself, knowing how erotic Alice found the noises.

I panted in time with Alice's strokes, feeling my loins tighten and trickles of release begin to run. I felt her other hand caress beneath my foreskin.

"Alice!" Came my strangled cry as my loins released the pressure within, along with an eruption of pleasure. I groaned loudly. Alice descended to kiss me fully as I slowly came back to reality. Or heaven. I couldn't at the moment tell which was which.

"Did you like that, Tom?" She whispered as I grasped her to my chest.

"My perfect Alice... it was perfect just like you." I whispered back, kissing her on the nose. "Absolute bliss." I cuddled her into me and tried my best to make her more comfortable.

She drew back from me and smirked again.

"I can make it even better." She whispered temptingly, yet I found it impossible to believe her. I couldn't begin to imagine anything feeling better.

Alice answered my silence by straddling my lap but I quickly backed away.

"No, Alice!" I cried. She smirked, unable to take my objection seriously, and she began trailing seductive kisses down my stomach. I lifted her chin and shifted away.

"Alice...no." I leaned in and kissed her tenderly. "I want to... heaven and earth, I want to, but you know I couldn't, Alice. I've always wanted to keep the wedding night sacred and I can't let my lust destroy that for either you or me."

"You think we'll get married, Tom?" She asked, her smile, so radiant it seemed to put the very stars to shame.

I hadn't really thought about the future in those terms before and was in no hurry to do so now. We were both young and blissfully happy in each other's company. Alice was always ordering me not to spoil our perfect peace with worry.

I gently touched her flower, caressing her as lightly as I could.

"Would you like a little more?" I asked gently.

"Mmn, no, Tom." She snuggled into me. "I just want to be held by you."

"It's going to get cold." I whispered, caressing her goose-pimpled arms. "You're shivering already."

"Take me to bed then, Tom." She smiled at me pleasantly. I pulled my breeches on, throwing the rest of our clothes over my shoulder. I took Alice up into my arms the way a bridegroom carries his bride over the threshold.

We crept eagerly through the dark, warm halls of my master's house; thankfully filled with the sounds of his snoring.

I eased Alice down gently onto the bed, and she wriggled under the covers as I hung our clothes over the back of our chairs.

"Coming to bed, Tom?" She held the covers open invitingly for me. I smiled indulgently, crawling under the covers with her. She turned her back towards me and curved her spine to fit my body exactly. I felt the tempting curve of her bottom but, already sated for the night, I was content to merely hold her in my arms and keep her warm and protected whilst she slept.

"Don't forget, Tom, you can't tell anyone about our secret ritual." She whispered as she fell asleep. I smiled and kissed her neck before dropping off to a deep sleep of sweet Alice-sented dreams.

* * *

In his home, the Fiend let out a sigh. He didn't know how to feel, seeing what he'd just seen. There was no guilt or shame mixed in with his feelings. He was her father, true, but they'd never been close, and, besides from that, he only looked at the mating ritual as a clashing of different powers coming together to create a new one. There was nothing of the pleasure itself that tempted him, not to the degree that it tempted the mortal men. For him it was nothing more than a pack of sugar in a mountain of sweets. To him, the acts of pleasure and love between the young humans were nothing. He could not understand the emotional affection. Sure, he knew of the concept and the strength that supposedly was to find if only the love was strong enough, but he'd never personally experienced it. It was not possible for someone like him.

'One day,' he thought to himself. 'One day she'll return, and the boy with her.' Ever since he discovered his daughter's potential he'd wanted to get her to his side. His confrontation of her had been turned down without any doubt in her mind, but the devil knew his kind. Inside of her dwelled a seed of darkness, a seed that in time would grow stronger and spread its roots in her mind without her noticing. Soon enough she would change her mind. The Fiend was certain. It was only a question of time. And with the boy following her like a puppy – love-struck and claimed by her mark; nothing would be able to stop him. His reign would be the only one every human would ever know, and there would be neither more threats nor strong opposing powers. No, everything would be as it should, and if the boy just needed a little more time, the Fiend had time to wait.

* * *

**A/N:  
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	3. A Helping Hand

**A/N:  
**It's been a whole year since GoldenWhiteRose and I talked about a third addition to this little collection. We were prepared for it to take some time, but I think neither of us had thought it would be more than a year. Still, we are both happy with what it turned out to be, and we also hope that you think it have been worth the wait.

That's all for this time, but please leave a review in the end to tell us what you think, and also tell us if you'd like us to do more of these.

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**Disclaimer:  
**«I do not own any of the following pictures, music, characters or the original universe. I only own the story itself the main character and to the idea.»  
Thanks a lot to the Walrus for betaing on this story.

* * *

**Daddy's Devilish Diary - "****A Helping Hand****"**

* * *

Tom had been gone for six weeks, and I was really missing him. The nights were drawing in colder, and I had nothing to keep me warm at night other than a gnarled, old man who kept getting up to piss.

Tom hadn't even been gone five minutes before Old Gregory first made a move on me. He put his hand on my leg and practically asked me to suck him off; telling me I had a mouth just like my aunt, but cleaner. The filthy, old beggar, and his prick was probably more of a rat's tail, but he was one of those men who think they haven't got old.

I'd had enough of him and had started to take more and more walks. I wore Tom's old leather jerkin to keep myself warm; partly to avoid my own hideous woollen coat, but mostly because it still held the smell of him. Soap, leather and a hint of something foreign; dangerous and enticing. I walked for a couple of miles through the chilly evening and frosty grass, past a few areas Tom and I had fond memories of. There was a large willow we'd once picnicked under in the summer, and a gentle stream we'd paddled in until our toes were blue and numb.

Thinking about our time paddling in the stream got me thinking about the time we went skinny dipping in the river. And, yet again, my thoughts drifted to Tom's flat, firm abs and pert, perfect bottom. It didn't have a single spot or dimple on it; although, it did have some delicious freckles. Right now, however, in the heat of the moment, it was his cock I missed the most.

I glanced around quickly, but I knew there was no one about, and besides, my mind was already made up. I was about to do something outrageous, and if anyone happened to be watching me? Well, it was their lucky day. I needed it now and I needed it bad. That, or I might end up riding the old man tonight. I hadn't been touched in six weeks after a year of constant love making; limitless pleasure from snatched moments throughout the day and the long, lazy nights that stretched into morning. I needed Tom; I needed his deft hands and clever tongue, but as he wasn't here, I was going to have to improvise.

Lying down with my head cradled by the willow I raised my arms above my head and began to think about Tom. At first I imagined him kissing my face and neck until my hips were beginning to move, seeking stimulation for my heat. Then I remembered those early days, when we'd both struggled with our burgeoning sexuality but were too shy to explore it; the tentative fumbles and ambiguous flirts.

Moaning a little and straining my hips upwards to where my lover should be; I remembered our first, embarrassed tumble into the glorious pleasure we now bathed in. Tom and I had sat beneath this very tree one warm summer's evening, talking about very little, and as we'd sat facing each other, his knee had slowly edged its way between my open thighs. The progress had been slow, my legs bent at the knee to invite exploration, and I'd nearly moaned when his knee finally made contact. Tom had stopped talking and made intent eye contact, slowly caressing his knee up and down: asking my permission. I had adjusted my skirt casually - as though neither of us had even noticed what was going on - so that his breeches knee was now under my skirt and directly against the source of that sticky heat. The coarse fabric had rubbed against me for only a moment before I'd leapt with pleasure, forcing Tom back against the ground.

I took the whore's posture; mounting Tom as few women would dare - even in Pendle most women took the bottom, or else were pressed against the wall. But I took that position of power, and ground myself against Tom's clothed erection, my knees pressing in against his own. Unmanned, Tom had quickly reclaimed prime position and lowered himself onto me; exerting that same delicious friction.

Laying here alone now, I mimicked the movement of Tom's thrusts with the heel of my hand. I clenched my hand into a fist and rolled it against my pubic mound, my legs bending at the knee. My hips bucked against the air; the warm breeze a poor substitute for Tom's breath. My fingers clenched where his hair should have been, between my gently trembling thighs, and I heard myself whimper.

"Tom!"

* * *

Meanwhile, in the dungeons of The Darkness

* * *

A sudden gust sent shivers through my bones, making me look up. Was it just something I had imagined? Or had that been-

A whimper cut me off, and I looked down at the man at my feet. The sheep farmer was strong for his age and I had already put him through all my standard meets off torture. Not that it had helped; the man was still looking at me with defiance in his eyes. Either I would have to be more creative, or the farmer truly didn't know what means I would go to get what I wanted.

However, I could deal with him later. Right now, I needed to do was check up on this gust.

I descended the stairs and hurried down the half-lit corridor, my thoughts going back to the shift in air I had felt. The Darkness was not free of circulation, and although the earlier gust had felt like nothing out of the ordinary, I knew for certain that it was something quite different indeed.

Power. It had been power. Still, although the wave had passed, I could feel the spark of it still lingering fresh in my memory. It felt so good; the shivering of dark magic dancing across my skin, renewing and reinforcing my own power. The Darkness was still strong, even though the strength had descended lately. It was fueled by the many dark hearts and the wielders of dark magic, but also by rituals. In the past there had been many more of this last one. Back when many there were many witches that broke out of their covens to form their own. It had been a time of constant power flushes - each and every one of them partaking in rituals that strengthened our powers. However, the world was no longer like that, and there were fewer and fewer covens around. There were still some in existence, but these were all washed up, and even with a multitude and consistency of these, the power they gave was nothing more than a drop of water. It was the lack of new blood. Fewer witches chose to go down the path to darkness, and the total amount of witches had been reduced drastically since the inquisitor and the church had intensified their hunts.

That gust had been different though; the power charged within it had been so fresh. It would have to be someone new. Not only that, but it had been strong too; a power that, if shaped right, would hold the potential of great value to the Dark.

I couldn't help but feel excited. It had been many years since there had been a strong newcomer like this. That time, I had found a young witch on the peak of her powers; dancing around between the bodies of men she had just slaughtered. She had been a great asset to my plans. Unfortunately, young Bethany had been killed only a month later; poisoned by the lover of one of her many victims.

Intrigued, I hurried over to my mirror to the world as I entered my chamber. The surface was shimmering in a milk white glow; its pulsating strong and tempting. I wanted it. I wanted nothing but to suck in that power; to let it grow strong and fierce before taking it all in. Eagerly, I leaned forward and let myself fall through the mist.

* * *

Meanwhile, by the stream

* * *

I was moaning, and squirming, but something was missing. It seemed hollow somehow; the pleasure was there, but it didn't build. The most frustrating part was that I didn't know what I wanted, or rather, I didn't know what I wanted in place of Tom.

I could normally find solace in riding something firm, like a pillow ... or Tom. Or sometimes exploring my wetness with my fingers - or letting Tom do that job for me. But nothing I did - frustrated twisting or imaginative caressing - nothing helped. In fact, feeling under pressure from myself was actually starting to take some of the fun from it; I wasn't enjoying it any more. I wasn't enjoying it, and I couldn't satisfy myself, but heaven and earth, I needed to.

Crying out in frustration and anger, at no one in particular, I sat up and beat my fists against the ground, clutching my head. New feelings were beginning to wash over me; I felt unloved and unwanted. I felt like Tom wasn't inside me out of spite, and then I felt even more awful because I knew he loved me and it wasn't his fault I was so wound up and angry. I lay back in frustration and tried to ignore that persistent ache that I knew I couldn't soothe.

* * *

Meanwhile, in The Darkness

* * *

As I watched her, I suddenly became aware of my own breathing pattern. Without me noticing it, my breathing had become more rapid, and the drums of my heart were hammering through my body.

Alice.

A joy filled me. The time had finally come. It was time for my little girl to finally grow into the daughter she was born to be; to step into the darkness and let its power wrap itself around her like a cloak of destiny. A tingling sensation ran through my body, and I had to fight not to give into the anticipation from the short spasms it brought along. It would have to wait.

Slowly, I reached my fingers through the mist. I closed my eyes, letting my body move on its own. As if on instinct my fingers moved in the substance, sliding, gliding as it reached into the earth itself. A muddy smell filled my nose, and I knew that it was time. I closed my mind off from my room and everything that surrounded my body, and let my will run down through my arms, my hands, and into the ground.

* * *

Meanwhile, by the stream

* * *

As I was lying on the ground, mourning what I needed and couldn't have, I felt a twitch. The kind of twitch that persuaded me that maybe all was not lost and that I wouldn't lose anything from trying again. It wasn't like Tom was with me - nothing like that - but it was a form of compensation. What it had felt like back before I met Tom, when it didn't mean anything; it was just a basic function.

It was like that for Lizzie - I know, she'd told me once - for Grimalkin, for all witches. But not for me; it would never be that way for me again. Or, at least, it shouldn't have been. Yet here I was again, fulfilling a basic physical need purely for the satisfaction, and I didn't care. My body needed it, and that was the only reason, but that wasn't the reason I wanted.

I'd always been very in-touch with my body, and I felt, at this moment, that my body understood how I was feeling. Because suddenly my feelings changed, and it wasn't just Alice satisfying her own lust anymore, but Alice and Tom making love over a distance. I didn't know if he was touching himself right now, it didn't really matter, because at that moment I didn't feel any sense of separation from him whatsoever.

I felt my hand glide down my body, skimming my hip, the other tangling itself in my hair. It was like Tom was touching me, lying with me, but more skilfully than I even knew either he or I could be. My hands were floating as though they were barely part of my body, performing ministrations I didn't know they could - tapping and flicking and rolling.

Normally, Tom and I explored, caressing and circling, varying only forces and speeds, depending on the moment. But this was different; I imagined this is what it would have been like at the hands of an experienced lover. I didn't like it, but I couldn't control how my body reacted - and yet my body loved it. I found myself moaning and squealing and writhing against my will, and yet it was my own will. It was my own hands performing this and my own imagination!

My legs trembled, despite being without a lover to grasp, and I found myself panting - too shallow to actually draw air.

When my moment of bliss actually came, it was different from any I'd previously known. I could feel a lover's affection towards me, but it didn't exactly feel like Tom; although, it was his name I attempted in my garbled scream. My lower stomach had pulled and lurched; just as it was when Tom was particularly successful, and I felt the profuseness of mucus up to my arse, down my thighs and covering my fingers down to the palms. The taste of it had somehow gotten on my lips; it tasted strange, like Tom's tongue once it had been inside me, but without the actual taste of my lover's tongue. I realised, licking my lips tentatively and drawing my lower lip into my mouth, that this was what I tasted like - and that I tasted good. It had even gotten in my hair, I realised, as I smelled myself more profusely than ever before. And I smelt good too.

* * *

Meanwhile, in The Darkness

* * *

I staggered backwards and fell down on my chair. The exercise had been exhausting. To influence the girl and give her the pleasure she sought was just a flick of a finger. It had been so easy; her willingness had given me no resistance at all. What had costed me a great deal was the projection of love. The girl needed feelings. She craved for the apprentice boy, and no act of pure lust would get by her without a little touch of 'love'. It had been tough. The power had never been a part of me, and what I had ever once in awhile used, was only based on my many years of observation and experimentation. Because of this, it took most of my focus and also an appreciable chunk of power. Still, I knew it was all worth it.

Even as I had first laid eyes on the newborn Alice, I had known that there would be much to expect. Her mother had indeed spoken true when she promised me a child with potential. I had hoped that the child would grow up while living up to her potential but, to my dismay, Lizzy gave the child to her weak sister. Lizzy had later collected the child, but at this point the young girl had spent much time with one of her other relatives - a benign witch named Agnes Sowerbutts, and had grown closer to the light.

It had been a problem. With the presence of light in one's soul, the dark potential would not be fully reached. The only way to do this was to let a strong wave of darkness overshadow and erase it. This, however, was hard to do on even the simple minded, and for someone of the mind power like Alice, it would be almost impossible. Which meant that it was all up to her.

A smile grew on my lips.

The other way to put out the light was done by the person themselves. I had been looking for a way to infiltrate her, to make her choose the darker path, but I had never fully succeeded. The choice would have to be made by her, and to have no stakes that would force her hand. She had previously dealt in the dark, but those times it had been as a last resort or something she was bid to do.

But not tonight.

Tonight was different. Alice had opened herself to the powers that pleased her. She had accepted them and let them wash over her. It had been voluntary, and not only that, but judged on what I had seen, she had no idea of what she'd done. She had taken a sip of pleasure. It would not stop. Not now. She would come back for another taste, another ravishing pleasure. Then another, and another bigger one, until, eventually, she would let the darkness flood into her, letting it wash out that small light. Her moon would grow, and her with it. I wouldn't be long. Soon she would be mine. And then… Then all that was left was the boy.

It was so tempting to entice him the same way. To tap into him as he laid in bed, cold and alone, and remind him. Remind him of the sweet, warm Alice; her bottomless, dark eyes and wicked smile. He could do that, but… It would be careless. The boy was much more wary, and might notice the change. If that happened, he might be less receptive to that kind of magic. No, it would be better to wait. The girl would lower his guard, and when the time comes, I will let her influence the boy.

* * *

By the stream

* * *

I didn't pull my dress back on to walk to the house- I realised now I must have shed it at some point. I simply left it lying there on the ground and walked back to the house naked, bathed in moonlight. I had tiny white petals strewn through my hair and stuck to my naked form and I admired my body as I drifted through the still-warm air. My thighs were gorgeous, I'd no idea why I'd ever been conscious of them; they were lean, proportionately long, and as pale as cream. They were soft and strong at the same time. All of me was beautiful. I couldn't resist caressing my entirety once more; not for pleasure, but purely for appreciation. I was perfection.

I breezed back to the house, bathed in my own radiant glow of contentment and satisfaction- not just with myself but with all the world around me. Flowers sprang up where I walked and birds chirped, despite the late hour. The stars shone just for me.

Suddenly the nights between now and seeing Tom again didn't seem so tortuous; I saw myself the way he did and, not only that, but had found a way to at least feel like I was making love to him from a distance. At the very least I'd be able to surprise him when he returned.

* * *

**A/N:  
**Please leave a review with your thoughts, okay?  
it will help us write better in the future^^

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End file.
